Handcuffs or Bullets
by sunnylemon35
Summary: AU starting in Chapter 23 of Insurgent.
1. Chapter 1: Handcuffs or Bullets

Eric waits in the interrogation chair. He can hear the Dauntless coming closer, bringing his death with them. What else would they bring, with all he's done? He can see his hands trembling. He tries to still them, hating the idea that even he is afraid to die.

He knows that he deserves this. There is no doubt about that. He's already come to terms with it, and he even welcomes it.

He's gratefully accepting his death, and yet he still can't stop his hands from shaking.

The roar of the Dauntless crowd grows louder and louder until finally the door leaps open. Four is the first one into the room, followed by Tori and then by Harrison. After them, everyone else floods in. The faction goes silent as the last few stray Dauntless enter.

His eyes scan the crowd and eventually settle on Tris's stare. She looks truly pissed, like she just lost a fight. And judging by the way that she keeps on looking at Four, she lost something to him. As she glares daggers at Eric, he involuntarily moves his hands to where she had stabbed him not all that long ago. It was the second time that she had made him collapse, the first time being when she had shot him. He wouldn't allow it to happen again. Well, not that there would really be any opportunity for that. Either way, the only other person that was ever able to make Eric fall to his knees was Tobias.

He always called him Tobias when the initiates weren't around. If he called him Four it would just be a reminder of one way that Tobias was superior. Though to him, it didn't matter how many fears you had as long as you could conquer them.

That was when Four opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm sure that you are aware of the crimes you have committed, so I'm not going to bother with saying them." He sounded like he was trying to appear bored, but in reality he cared very much.

"I also know that you are aware that you should be executed for these crimes." Eric becomes aware of the deliberate word choice of "should" rather than "will."

"Fortunately for you, you might turn out to be useful, so that isn't going to happen."

"What?" Eric is sure he has misheard something. He's killed people, innocent people, and they're not going to kill him? It's not how a true Dauntless would do it. Which is fitting, he muses, as Four used to be a Stiff.

"You might come in handy. For bargaining. So, you aren't being executed, for now at least." He can't believe it. He should be happy, after all he gets to live for a little while longer. But he's not, he's only angry, because what about the people he's killed? Do they not matter just because he seems _useful? _Maybe he's annoyed because it's illogical, and there's always the Erudite part of him that wants things to make sense.

"I can't help! Jeanine doesn't need me for her plan!" He briefly smirks at himself when he wonders if there's ever been someone so mad that they _weren't_ being executed.

"Yes, and we can definitely trust you." Talking about trust in a Candor building, how ironic.

"Just do it. Shoot me." Did he want to die? He couldn't say for certain. It definitely wouldn't surprise him after all he's done.

"No one is shooting you. Handcuffs; yes. Bullets; no." Eric had to appreciate the pure snark that Four was emitting.

"Then I'm just going to do it myself, and that way you won't get the satisfaction." Four wouldn't be satisfied. To be honest, he didn't really want to have to shoot Eric, and he had been the one to convince the Dauntless that they should keep him alive. He figured that it was probably related to the Abnegation side of him. It wasn't that he thought that he didn't deserve a punishment for his crimes, but he just couldn't agree with shooting him in the head as he just sat there.

"Why would you want to?" The question shook Eric. Answers flitted through his mind, about justice and about usefulness. He decided that it would be best to not give an answer at all.

Eric let the Dauntless handcuff him and drag him with them without resistance. He had a lot of thinking to do.

**AN: **Alright, first time writing a story for Divergent. I've only read the second book and seen the movie, so sorry if I got something wrong. Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2: Facts or Emotions

Eric felt better once they were in Dauntless territory. Even with all that had happened, he considered it his home. Because really, he had never betrayed it, despite what other people thought. Sure, he had betrayed Abnegation, but it wasn't like he had instructed the Dauntless to start attacking themselves. That was a side effect, a side effect of the divergent, a side effect of people that tried to save everyone. No, this civil war was not his fault.

It wasn't his fault that there were people like Tris, people who had no idea of what reality was really like. He hated Tris. Part of him was surprised that she didn't have an aptitude for Amnity, with how opposed she was to fighting. Maybe that was why she never fit in as a dauntless. She couldn't get over the fact that people die, couldn't accept that there is nothing that can stop that. She didn't understand the concept of faction before blood. People like her, they didn't make any sense. It's only logical that the most intelligent should lead. But people like her, they would betray the whole for the sake of a few.

Eric liked Caleb better. He was smart, at least. He put facts before his emotions. He was rising quickly as an Erudite because of that. Caleb understood that people have to suffer in order for things to get better. He understood that there are such things as acceptable losses.

Four led Eric across The Pit. It reminded him of times where Four would have put him in a headlock, not handcuffs. Not that he would have liked that any better than the situation he was in now.

"So, you and the Stiff, huh?" He always had this problem. He always dug himself deeper into whatever hole he was inevitably in.

"Shut up." Four was not in a talking mood. Especially about Tris. Recently, between them, things were… tense, to say the least. And now, what with them fighting over Eric of all people. Of course she would want him dead, due to her undying and pig-headed loyalty to her home faction.

"What's her name, Tris? Yeah, she seems your type. Fits all the three "s" traits. Stubborn, Selfless, and most of all, Stupid." Eric smirked, watching Four trying to keep himself from lashing out.

"I must ask, how does she feel about me being here? I mean, last time we talked, she didn't seem too happy. The whole stabbing thing, was it really necessary though? She could have just shot me in the head, she seemed pretty eager to do it to Will-" Four slammed Eric against one of the Pit's rocky walls. It was hard enough to knock the air out of him, but he could still feel Four restraining himself.

"Keep talking and I might start agreeing with her on your survival." Eric raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Start agreeing with her? So he had been right. Four didn't want to kill him. Eric corrected himself. Four didn't want to kill him _yet_. If he kept on opening his mouth, he might.

Four led Eric into a small, damp chamber. It was a square room, only furnished with a cold steel bed and a toilet. All of the walls were cold grey stone, with the exception of one wall that was a grate of iron. After he was in the room, Four unlocked his handcuffs through the grate.

"You'll be here for a few days until we figure out exactly what to do with you. I assume you won't be stupid enough to try and make any trouble." Even though his exterior was calm, Four was still unsure about keeping Eric alive. He still didn't know if this was right. And there was no telling how everyone else was going to treat him because of his decision. It certainly wasn't the most popular opinion, but he was a leader now and he would have to stand by his call.

Four walked back to where the others were convening. He grabbed a paintball gun and some paintballs, and headed over to where Tris was standing. Once she spotted him, her face pulled itself into a look of contempt.

"We need to talk." He didn't know what else to say. It was all that there was to say. If she didn't want to talk, then there was nothing he could do.

"No kidding." He sighed. She could be so difficult when she wanted to be.

"Do you want to try and see what cameras are left in the initiate dorms?" Tris nodded and started heading over to the dorms, walking at a faster pace than she normally would. Four had to rush to catch up with her.

"Tris, I know he killed people. Trust me, I know. You don't have to convince me that he's bad, I promise. But you just have to think logically about this, he could-"

"Think logically? You are the one that needs some improvement in that area. Because last time I checked, it's pretty justified to execute someone for murder, treason, and starting a war!" She stopped and turned on her heel to face Four. "He told you, Jeanine doesn't need him! You can't just act like he's any one of us! He's insane! So what if he used to be a leader?" She shoved her finer into his chest on her last sentence.

"That is not what this is about. It could have been anyone, and I would tell you the same thing."

"Really? You haven't expressed any interest in capturing any of the other ex-Dauntless that might be _useful!_ You haven't been paying very much mind to all of the people who are dying because of Eric's betrayal!" She was practically screaming now. "Honestly, I'm not too sure that I'd trust you to remember everything he's done. You weren't there when he-"

"Tris! Why would I want to keep him around? Aside from for bargaining?"

"I don't know, Tobias. I don't know." She turned back around and started to walk away from him.

**AN: **I'm not that satisfied with this chapter, but I'll probably go back and revise it. I think it's mostly because I hate writing dialogue, and so much of this chapter is dialogue. Tell me what you think of it, and if you have and thoughts on where the story should go, I'd love to hear some ideas!


	3. Chapter 3: Guilty or Scarred

**AN:** Okay, I'm just going to warn people that there is a bit of gory imagery in this chapter.

It wasn't even the end of his first day in the cell when Eric ran out of things to think about. Pleasant things, anyways. And he did not count the past few weeks as pleasant. But at this point, he had already avoided the hurricane of thoughts enough and now there was nothing left as an alternative.

The first thing that he thought about was whether he should blame Tris or Tobias for his downfall. Tris was the one who had destroyed the simulation, so she was at least the cause for the fall of Erudite. However, he thought, if Tobias had just shot him, he wouldn't have had to live with the failure. It was fitting that Tobias was once again the cause of his defeat and his downfall. People had only ever cared about the man with only four fears. Even if he was the leader, people would only ever care about Tobias's strength, Tobias's bravery. It wasn't fair, but that was no new lesson to Eric. He knew that he shouldn't blame Tobias, after all it was by no fault of his own that people liked him more. But he still felt something burning inside him whenever people would go asking Tobias for help. Maybe it was jealousy. He wanted to think that he was better than that, but he knew that that was it.

He felt nauseous when he realized that he had been willing to kill so many people because he wanted to be respected for once. How many more would have died at his hands, if the ex-Dauntless hadn't captured him? How far had he been willing to go, simply to slate his envy? He tried to argue with himself, tell himself that he had only been fighting so that the city could be better, but no matter how many times he thought it, he couldn't erase the image of the divergent Candor boy, brains and blood spattered all against the bright white of the Erudite wall.

Eric lurched over and poured the contents of his mostly empty stomach into the toilet. He closed his eyes and flushed away the sick, but he stayed on the floor, propping himself up on the wall opposite his bed. He could feel something hot running down his cheeks, touching them only to find that he was crying. He tried to wipe them away, but more just replaced them. There was nothing he hated more than this. Tears were liquid weakness, and Eric didn't tolerate weakness.

Sitting there, Eric realized how exhausted he was. He hadn't been getting enough sleep recently, due to everything that was happening. But now, he could feel himself drifting off until even the damp and the cold of his cell faded away.

Four balanced the plate of food on one hand. It was his job to bring Eric his meals, mostly because there was no one else who would do it. He would have just volunteered in the first place, but Tris was already mad enough at him as it was. When no one else would do it, he figured that that was a good enough excuse. He actually did want to talk to Eric. Even with no aptitude for it, he had always had a bit of that Erudite curiosity. Why would someone do everything that he'd done? He wanted to know his reasoning.

When he got to Eric's cell, he was asleep, even though it was only noon. Around his eyes was red, like he'd been crying, but Four figured that that couldn't have been it. Eric would never cry. Even if he would have wanted to, he wouldn't have let himself. It also wouldn't have made sense, because Eric hadn't seemed too torn up about everything that was happening.

That's when he heard Eric mumbling something. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he was clearly still asleep. His hand shifted to cover where Tris had stabbed him. He curled inward on himself, starting to look like a caged animal, which Four supposed he was.

Four opened the cell door. He quietly walked in and closed the door behind him. Now that he was closer, he could see Eric's expression better. He looked _terrified_. He guessed that he was having a nightmare, which wouldn't be a far guess considering all the things that he had done.

Four gently shook him. He figured that he should wake him up for food, and it was just as well that he stopped the nightmare. Anything that could scare Eric was something that he would wake anyone up from. He had been unaware that Eric could actually have any emotions other than smug or annoyed.

Eric was holding a gun. In front of him was a line of divergents. On the wall next to him, a body was slumped down, a line of smeared blood trailing down the wall. He felt sick. He wanted to get out, but there was nowhere to go. Then Tris walked up to him. She started to claw and scratch at him. He tried to tackle her down, but she was too strong. His finger pulled the trigger, almost involuntarily. Almost. He saw the fine mist of red that sprayed out from the back of her head. Her lifeless body fell onto his, and he jolted back, letting the body fall to the floor with a sickening thump. He started to scream.

Just then his eyes shot open, though he was still screaming. He clapped his hand to his mouth when the first thing he saw was the dark blue orbs that were Tobias's eyes. He was completely still, only his chest moving tightly to breathe.

At first, neither of them said anything. But then curiosity got the better of Four.

"What was that?"

**AN:** The first time that this chapter got posted was accidental, my cat sat on my keyboard. I couldn't delete it because I was already late for school, and I haven't gotten a chance to revise it until now. Sorry!


	4. Chapter 4: Partners or Enemies

"What are you doing in here?"

"I asked you a question first. You answer first." Silence fell. Eric gave Tobias a look of defiance that Tobias took to mean Eric wouldn't answer until he did. The look would have been a lot more threatening if Tobias couldn't see that all of his muscles were tensed, and he was still curled inward on himself. Knowing that he was uncomfortable still didn't get him any answers, so Tobias decided that it wasn't like there was a reason to not tell him, aside from the fact that Eric would get that smirk on his face like he was just so happy that he had beaten him. Tobias figured that it was worth settling his curiosity.

"I was bringing you lunch. You were sleeping. I thought that I should wake you up before it got cold." Eric glared at him skeptically. It was a weak excuse, considering that not even a week ago he had almost been ready to execute him.

Eric glanced towards where the plate rested beside Tobias. "Yeah, I'm sure you didn't want my sandwich to get cold." He pushed up on the floor and stood up. "Thanks." Tobias couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. It was always hard to tell with him, and by now his face had settled back into its usual stony expressionless mask. No one ever really knew what he was thinking, Tobias realized. No one knew, but he wanted to find out how he thought, what made him tick. What made him betray Dauntless. He wanted him to take off the unreadable mask.

"Now it's your turn." It was time for Tobias to get an explanation. Eric's face stayed the same, but Tobias saw the miniscule drop of his shoulders. It was a signal, though usually more obvious, of defeat. He noticed, but didn't say anything. Implying that he was weak was not going to get him any answers.

"I fell asleep."

"Of course, you just fell asleep sitting on a stone floor, right across from a bed."

"Yes." As intriguing as Eric was, he sure could be difficult.

"Ok, yeah, but that doesn't explain why you looked like you were scared to death. You were _screaming_, Eric, I'd call that a pretty valid reason to come into your cell." He could tell that he was already pushing Eric's limits of civility, but it was worth it. It was clear that he had been having a nightmare. But he wanted to hear him say it.

"And you would know what I look like when I'm 'scared to death'?" Eric's voice was cold and sharp, and his head was tilted down just enough to make his eyes appear infinitely darker.

"Yeah, actually, after all I was the person who told you that you weren't being executed. And before I told you that, well, you didn't exactly look calm." He wasn't even thinking about what he said now.

"Well, if you're so proud of that particular achievement, then why don't you just shoot me now, and then you could say that you scared me to death with some conviction." Eric's hand were curled into fists so tight that his knuckles were turning white. Tobias could see a tiny bit of blood in his palms where he assumed that his nails had broken the skin. The vibrant red brought him back to the situation.

"What was it about?"

"What?" Tobias rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that we both know that you were having a nightmare. So I'm asking, what was it about?" Eric swallowed hard. So he had been right.

"You don't know that." But he looked unsure. There was no power behind his words, no confidence like there usually was.

"Yeah, I do. If you don't want to talk about it now, I get it." He gave up, for now at least. With the way Eric was, there was no way that he was going to get any answers from him now. "But you will tell me eventually. And don't forget that I was the one who convinced everyone _not_ to kill you." Eric stared into his eyes now not with as much defiance, but with more understanding. And Tobias was the one who had been looking to understand Eric. He silently nodded, which Tobias knew meant more than it seemed like it should.

Tobias opened the door. He was almost gone when he called out, "And remember to eat your sandwich before it gets cold!" His voice was playful, and for the first time in a long time, the grin on Eric's face was genuine.

**AN: **Well that was shorter than I meant it to be. Oh well. I think that the dynamic between Tobias and Eric is so interesting, I wanted to examine it more. One moment they're working as partners, and in the next they are ready to have a fight to the death.

Maybe it's just me.


	5. Chapter 5: Guilty or Lying

Tris shivered as she felt the knife's cold metal tucked against her side. Even though it would have been easier to use a gun, she still couldn't convince herself to take one. Though it would have the same end result, she just…couldn't.

She turned the key over in her hand. It was colder, and sharper, than she had imagined a key like this would be. The ridges of it dug into her hand, leaving little red marks all across her palm. The jagged sensation felt like an accusation, like the key knew what she was going to do.

She didn't feel bad about her plan. Well, going against Four's orders and behind his back felt wrong, but aside from that, she just felt empty. Inside her was a widening and darkening void that refused to be filled. She thought that she would feel _something_ as she walked down the empty corridor. She thought that maybe she'd feel angry, or maybe she'd feel righteous. But instead, the only thing that she felt was her own steady heartbeat.

Eric stared at the wall in front of him, something that he was doing a lot recently. It wasn't like he had a whole lot of options of other things to do. He hadn't even bothered to try and figure out a way to escape, though he suspected that it wouldn't be that difficult, what with the lack of security. Normally, there would have been guards down here, but in the circumstances everyone was too busy.

Honestly, they didn't even need to keep him in here. He wasn't going anywhere. He had nowhere else to go. There was no chance that Jeanine would want him back, and even if she did, he didn't want to go back to her. He couldn't stay with any of the other factions, and he wouldn't have fit in with them anyway. Dauntless was his home. It was the only place for him to go, and here he was. He tried to look on the bright side.

He figured that he should have been grateful that he had been spared, but at this point he was wondering if that was even a good thing. It wasn't because he was bored, but because of all of the things that the boredom made him think about. It made him think about everything that he'd done, everything that he had caused. A month ago he would have been proud of it all, but now, it made him sick, all of the destruction he had caused.

He couldn't even escape it in his sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see it all. The broken homes, the bodies, the blood splatters and smears across walls. He could hear them screaming, he could hear them begging for mercy, mercy that he knew that he didn't give them. It was torture, every night. He could sit there and think about what he'd done or he could try and deal with the nightmares.

He straightened his back and steadied his breathing. He should be better than this. He had been right. He was the only one who had brave enough to do what had to be done. If he hadn't helped Jeanine, she would have just attacked Abnegation anyway, and who knows what she would have done after that? She could have attacked Dauntless. He tried to convince himself that he had done everything to protect his faction.

He tried to avoid thinking about the possibility that it was all because he was just too trigger-happy.

Tris had almost reached the end of the hallway. Just before the very end, she turned left on her heels. It was the first time she had seen Eric since his almost-execution, and if she was honest, he looked terrible. Deep, dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes betrayed his exhaustion. His hair was dirty and disheveled, and a few greasy strands fell into his face. His usual smirk was long gone. The many piercings on his face glinted in the harsh light.

He turned to stare at her. His grey eyes seemed to look straight through to her soul. She stood there for a minute, staring back at him. She didn't know what she had expected. Maybe she thought that he'd be laughing manically, like some psychotic villain in a children's book. Maybe she expected him to be angry or trying to escape. Yet here he was, expressionless as ever, unreadable, and just as intense as he had been before any of this had started.

She walked closer, until she could grab the cold bars that separated them. His icy eyes tracked her movement like a guard dog. It occurred to her that she was supposed to be intimidating him, and not the other way around. In the long run, it didn't really matter to her who intimidated who as long as only one of them walked out of that cell, and she was the one with a knife.

"Got something to say, Stiff?" Even in his situation, he managed to make it sound condescending, like she was just wasting his time.

She didn't respond as she slid the key into the lock that separated them. She twisted it slowly, maybe to savor it, or maybe because she was scared of what she had to do next. She knew that it was the latter, and she hoped that he didn't.

"What the hell are you doing?" She still didn't say anything. He hadn't really expected a response anyway. She stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her. Eric didn't move, as he didn't want to leave in the first place. Tris slipped the key back into her pocket. She walked over to where Eric was standing, until there was less than a foot of space between them. Even though he was only two years older than her, he towered over her. He was also much more muscular, especially compared to her scrawny frame.

She slid her hand back and pulled out the blade that had been tucked into her waistband. Eric glanced at it and started to slowly back away, remembering when she had stabbed him before.

Tris stepped forward as he stepped back. She pressed the point of the knife up against his neck. It was hard enough to leave a mark, but not hard enough to break the fragile skin. She felt like she should be savoring this moment of power over him, but she felt just as numb as when she had been walking down the hallway.

Eric's breath hitched as the knife pressed deeper. He hadn't forgotten how she never hesitated, when she had shot him or when she had stabbed him. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He swallowed hard, and the point finally caused a thin line of crimson blood to leak out.

"Everything you've done… how do you live with yourself?"

"Judging by the knife on my throat, I'm not going to have to live with myself for much longer anyway." Eric didn't know what to feel. He wasn't scared or nervous, and he wasn't excited. Numb, maybe.

"Do you feel even a little bit of remorse for what you've done?" He honestly didn't know the answer. Was what he felt guilt, or was it just him getting caught I the act and not wanting to deal with the punishment? He didn't know, he couldn't tell.

"Answer the question." Her voice was hard and sharp as she shoved the steel even further, but still not far enough to cause any damage.

"Yes! Okay? I'm guilty!"

"Well, I may not be in Candor, but you're going to have to try harder than that if you want me to believe you."

"I'm not lying! I'm sorry!" She squinted in disbelief. She slowly dragged the knife away from his throat.

"You're not _sorry!_" She pushed the blade hard into his lower abdomen. "You don't even understand what that word means! All of the families you tore apart, the people you _killed,_ you screwed _everyone_ over! And don't you dare make a _sound,_ you deserve this! You deserve_ worse!_" For every word she emphasized, she stabbed him again and again. He collapsed, coughing up blood into a puddle beside himself. She kicked him, hard, in the ribs, with more strength than either of them realized that she had. He made an awful gurgling noise, and coughed up even more blood, which stuck to his lips and ran down his chin.

He closed his eyes, finally giving up, when the last thing he remembered before the darkness was Tobias's voice.

"Tris! Stop!"


	6. Chapter 6: Dream or Reality

The next time Eric opens his eyes, he knows he's in a dream. He doesn't really know _how_ he knows, he just does; maybe it's the way that everything is fuzzy around the edges, like he's seeing it through a screen. Even though he knows that it's a dream, it doesn't make it feel any less real, which is why he much prefers to sleep without dreams. But he has no such luck, and instead of the dull black of sleep, he sees around him the bright, clean walls of Erudite headquarters. He walks down the empty hallway, footsteps echoing uncomfortably loudly in the silence. Once he reaches the end, he is standing in front of a door. There is nothing special about it, it's entirely average in every way; yet it fills him with a sense of dread, like he's been here before. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he reaches for the handle.

He pushes the door open, only to be greeted with a blast of chilled air and pitch black. The sense of dread only grows, but something is pulling him into the room, beckoning him to come in and see what's hiding in the shadows. As he steps into the room, he hears the door lock behind him, but he is preoccupied with the sudden lighting of the room. Harsh fluorescent lights cast even harsher shadows into the room's corners, and onto the face of Jeanine Mathews. She looks as neat and clean as ever; her natural composure was one of the things that intimidated him the most about her.

Suddenly, the reason for his dread becomes apparent. She holds out a gun to Eric, and he sees the child cowering against the wall. He looks like he's about 12, and he's clearly terrified, and rightfully so. They both know what Eric is about to do.

"Do it." She says it with such conviction that he wonders if she even realizes what she's doing. But those simple words mean so much more than just that. They mean, "Do it, or else I will do much worse to you." So he lifts the gun with shaking hands up until the boy's head is in the sights of the gun. He wishes that he couldn't see the tears streaking the kid's face, he wishes that he could tell the kid sorry, but most of all he wishes that he didn't have to do this. But he doesn't have any options, so he just stares coldly into the child's eyes as he pulls the trigger until he hears the _bang_ of the bullet firing from it's chamber.

Blood coats the wall, along with mutilated skull and brain matter. And then he can't tell anymore if it's dream or reality, because both are just as clear.

**AN:** Hi, sorry that this chapter both took really long to do, is pretty short, and is not really relevant to the main story... blame writers block. I don't know, I just felt like doing something a little different. I hope you like it :)


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